


pornographie

by klytaemnestra (klytae)



Series: Midgar Blues - A Collection of Shinra Noir [9]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:15:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27522889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klytae/pseuds/klytaemnestra
Summary: He wants it to be exquisite, artistic, shadowy lighting, something that makes the viewer believe, and then begin to wonder. A light here, and there to illuminate their bodies. He places a small microphone near the far window, every breathless sigh and moan must be captured. And when he’s finished, he looks at his handiwork and smiles ever so wickedly.
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Series: Midgar Blues - A Collection of Shinra Noir [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1915873
Comments: 10
Kudos: 44





	pornographie

They slip away from Junon one Friday afternoon, Rufus is not expected in Midgar for another 3 weeks. A routine trip to be seen about the Shinra building, keeping up the ongoing charade of being away on business. But he has longed to see the skyline, his voice husky with lust as he asks Tseng to take him home in secret, just this once, they can get a suite somewhere, not at the Grand, but somewhere in Sector 8, disappear among the crowd of theatre goers. Rufus sighs into the receiver, whines high in his throat, and Tseng tells him he’ll be there to pick him up the following day.

Tseng is barely through the door when Rufus pulls him into a kiss. It’s been 16 days, and the last visit a short stopover on his way to the Corel region where he’d dropped to his knees to suck Rufus off, and left him with a kiss and a promise to return as soon as his schedule allowed. The time apart only heightens their desire. Tseng considers taking him once here. Rufus having on more than one occasion made their inflight journey just a bit perilous when the need to touch Tseng becomes too much, though there is a certain thrill at the way Rufus pushes him to his limits, testing his self control, he’ll get them both killed one day, though Tseng can’t think of a more ideal way to go than Rufus’ mouth on his cock.

‘Are you going to behave yourself?’ Tseng asks when Rufus pulls away, the taste of lavender and mint lingering on his tongue.

‘Do you want me to?’

Tseng looks to the time, it’s 2 hours back to Midgar, knows Rufus is going to get feisty mid-flight. ‘I’m trying to decide if I need fuck you before you step into that bird.’ He watches the way colour seems to creep along Rufus’ cheeks, pupils ever so slightly dilated. Rufus wants it, and Tseng is about to bend him over the nearest stable object, heat pooling between his legs at the thought of sinking into that tight warmth, when Rufus interjects. ‘Not yet, I want to try something when we’re back in Midgar. I’ll tell you about it once we’re airborne.’

At 600 meters, it begins. Tseng keeps his hands steady on the controls as Rufus settles beside him, ‘As you’re well aware, there’s any number decidedly  _ questionable _ media bearing my likeness.’ Tseng restrains himself from laughing, it is a rather delicate subject matter. Rufus Shinra unaware that half of Midgar wanted to see him on his knees. Remembers the rather unpleasant realization. Tseng does not mention how he has on occasion sought out beautiful men who resemble his lover, thinks to one escort who had helped him understand the complicated emotions he felt toward Rufus. Yes, he is well aware that there’s an entire sex industry built on the often depraived need to cum all over Rufus Shinra’s pretty face.

‘There are ones of us, you know.’ There are enough who know how Rufus is rarely seen without his dutiful Turk at his side, it makes a plausible argument that Rufus Shinra might be having relations with said Turk. Tseng makes a sound as if he’s unsurprised. Could be a fun way to pass the time later, watching a facsimile of themselves putting on a show for the camera, wonders if any of those videos could possibly capture how  _ noisy _ Rufus tends to get, none of those fake overwrought moans, but sheer sounds of Rufus coming undone on his cock, the cries when those thrusts would zero in on his prostate until he’s shuddering and gasping, body quaking with little shockwaves of pleasure.

‘I have a proposition. Something fun, maybe a little reckless.’ Tseng casts him a glance then, dubiously intrigued at what Rufus is about to suggest. ‘I thought we might take advantage of all this porn, make one ourselves.’

The leather of Tseng’s glove creaks against the throttle.

‘Everyone wants to see me fucked.’ Rufus continues on. ‘Let’s give the public what they want.’

They check into the Four Symbols Hotel under a pseudonym. Of the splendid hotels in Midgar, the Symbols is the one known for its discretion, a favourite of Tseng’s when he was still seeking out the comfort of others. The benefit of Rufus Shinra being objectified and emulated within the sex industy, is no one seems to notice or care when Tseng crosses the lobby with an attractive blonde at his side. They have booked the Azure Suite, Tseng adamant in not staying in the same room in which he had once spent many a night in the company of a prostitute. It is in the past, so long ago he often feels as if it is nothing more than a hazy vision from a dream he cannot quite recall. His time without Rufus Shinra in his bed seems a distant thing, indeed. As if those long months of enmity between them never existed

Rufus discards his overcoat in a careless drape, and moves across the room to take in the view. His building glittering and magnificent from the southern most facing windows. They’re not nearly at the same altitude but it will suffice. The windows facing out across the city, Sector 8 and 1 alight and bustling as the moon rises high above the towering buildings. He turns to Tseng, ‘Call down for some champagne.’

He withdraws a small camera from his overnight bag, positioning it on a tripod perched on a nearby decorative table, and checks the angle as Tseng looks on, a rather bemused expression etched across his face. ‘What? I can’t have it looking like some amateur filmed this.’ He wants it to be exquisite, artistic, shadowy lighting, something that makes the viewer believe, and then begin to wonder. A light here, and there to illuminate their bodies. He places a small microphone near the far window, every breathless sigh and moan must be captured. And when he’s finished, he looks at his handiwork and smiles ever so wickedly.

Tseng returns with a bottle of chilled champagne on ice, and two coupe glasses, and setting them aside takes in the sight of his lover. ‘How drunk do you want to be before we begin?’

‘I need to focus, just one glass.’ He’s already removing his clothing, silk tie slipping loose as his hands deftly work at buttons, and cufflinks, buckles, and snaps. Each garment carefully set aside as to not detract from the shot, before slipping into the bathroom.

He hears Tseng uncork the bottle from the next room, and calls out. ‘Don’t change. I need you in full uniform.’

‘Yes, Sir.’

He emerges a short while later, smelling heavily of his favourite cologne, bergamot, rosemary, and soft spice, a diaphanous white robe draped across fragile shoulders, and belted neatly at the waist. He suspects Tseng is thankful for his foresight to remove any obstacles of clothing, lest they end up tangled together on the floor once the filming starts. He plucks the champagne coupe from his lover’s hands, and takes a slip, before leaning in to purr into Tseng’s ear, ‘I’ve already prepared myself. All you need to do is slip in.’

‘A little movie magic?’

Rufus swirls the champagne on his tongue. ‘You could call it that. I need you to pretend that we’re not lovers. I know you’re skilled at pretending, so just channel that.’ Rufus flicks a switch then, bathing the room in shadows, illuminated only by the cityscape beyond and the discreetly placed lighting. To his left the camera light begins to blink.

‘Sir?’

Rufus does not hesitate, hand reaching up to tug at Tseng’s tie, to pull him close, mouth hot against the curve of his neck as he sighs, ‘I’ve waited for you.’ His lips are sweet, tongue curling against Tseng’s ear, as he continues on. ‘So many nights watching you fuck other men. Men who aren’t me.’

Tseng gives him a look like he wants to laugh, but plays along, pulling away to regard his lover with dark eyes. ‘You’re a brat, spoiled, rich. Why would I risk anything for you?’

‘Because you need me.’ Rufus exclaims with all the melodrama of some silver screen starlet, and thinks how he has a bit of his late mother’s talent, yet. ‘I don’t care what father says, I need your cock.’

Tseng does laugh then, buries his face in the hollow of Rufus’ throat, muffling the sounds as he pulls him close. It’s easy enough from this angle, in the low lighting to pretend. Tseng tilts Rufus just so to capture his mouth in a kiss. Perhaps not to be outdone, Tseng tells him how good he will look on his cock, how he wants to see him taking every inch of it, how he intends to wreck his perfect life by craving the cock of a hired assassin, and it’s the filthiest thing Rufus thinks he’s ever heard slip from his mouth in the bedroom. ‘I’m going to fuck you until you forget your place in this world, Sir.’ The final word seals it, and this time Rufus is the one to stifle a laugh behind his hand, teeth digging into a knuckle as he forces it into a moan, a sigh, and then.

‘Yes, yes. Fuck me. Make me yours.’ Tseng doesn’t need an invitation, an act or not, Rufus is hard, and hot, and wanton, his cock already pressing against his thigh, barely concealed beneath flimsy silk, and in one fluid motion, he has him pressed against the glass. Rufus can hear the familiar sound of Tseng undoing his belt, the soft purr of the zipper, and then a gloved hand sliding to hitch up his robe. He pulls his body close, his free hand curling around Rufus’ neck, tipping his head back to expose the long line of it, pale in the darkness. And then thrusts deep. It’s enough to make Rufus cry out as he feels the soft tickle of hair against the curve of ass, Tseng settling within. They both still for a moment.

One hand braced against the glass, the other reaching behind to cup Tseng’s hip, Rufus sighs, ‘Make me forget I’m Rufus Shinra.’ It’s all the encouragement Tseng needs, the thrusts beginning slowly, languid strokes that slip up against Rufus’ prostate, eliciting soft moans. Rufus knows soon enough there will be no more time to pretend, his body taking over with need and desire, the feel of Tseng’s cock inside him enough to make him come completely undone no matter his resolve. He manages a few words, but they trail off into little whimpers.

Tseng presses a trail of kisses along his silk clad shoulders, his voice surprisingly steady when he breathes, ‘You own the world, Sir.’ A jerk of his hips, then another, harder this time. ‘Tell the world who owns you.’

‘Fuck.’ Rufus rocks back against the thrusts. ‘You, you own me.’ He pleads for more, his own passion for Tseng overriding whatever self control he has left, Tseng now driving into him at an unrelenting pace. At this angle it’s simply not enough, Tseng withdraws, and positions Rufus' back up against the glass, hands cradling his ass and thighs as he drives into him with renewed force. The new position offers Rufus the advantage of leaning down to steal kisses, their lips barely parting except for breath as the angle drives Tseng hard against the spot that makes his vision nearly go white with pleasure. He hooks his legs around Tseng’s waist, the weight of his body heavy against the thrusts, and knows that neither will last long, the way Tseng’s hips begin to stutter, breath coming in hard pants as the pleasure builds between them.

It hits him in a blinding wave, Tseng’s warmth already filling him, body quaking beneath his own as he tries to keep them upright, Rufus arches and comes with a shout all over Tseng’s suit. They collapse together onto the floor, shuddering as they share slow kisses, Rufus murmuring how he’s Tseng’s, no longer an act, so hopelessly lost in his affection as he smiles down at Tseng, brushes away strands of sweat damp hair, and whispers words for none other to hear.

Rufus turns then, to the camera. Light spilling across his features for the briefest of moments as he stares at the small red blinking light. It’s a reckless thing, he acknowledges, to film this, but no one in all of Midgar will ever believe it’s authentic. He disentangles himself from Tseng’s body, ignoring the cooling trail of cum between his thighs, and crosses the room to turn off the camera.

He slips away into the bathroom to clean himself up, Tseng following close behind. ‘I’ll call down for dry cleaning.’ Rufus offers as he preens in the mirror, hopes at least they captured a good cum shot.

Rufus spends the remainder of the evening on his laptop, clicking away with editing software, as he and Tseng dine on Wutaian fusion from the hotel restaurant, and sip chilled champagne.

‘What should I title it, Tseng?’ Rufus asks, leaning back to settle against his lover as he waits for the video file to upload.

‘Do you want something artistic, or something more straight to the point?’ Tseng looks over Rufus’ shoulder then, and reads aloud, ‘Sector 69.’

‘Only the best porn site in Midgar.’ Rufus laughs a little, typing something with a flourish.

‘Blond Twink CEO Fucked Raw by Wutaian Subordinate?’

‘What?’ Rufus turns, looking infinitely pleased with himself just as Tseng leans in, fingertips closing the laptop, and pulls him into a kiss.

_ Fin _

**Author's Note:**

> I have to thank takenbynumbers for suggesting Sector 69 when the question of what to name a porn site in Midgar was posed by me in Discord.


End file.
